


Lovers' bliss

by Leia_kuan



Category: Mo Dao Zu Shi, The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Married Life, No Plot/Plotless, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:07:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24453409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leia_kuan/pseuds/Leia_kuan
Summary: Felt like writing a smutty and yet slightly fluffy one-shot because I'm still not over these two getting the happy ending they deserve!
Relationships: Lan Wangji|Lan Zhan / Wei Wuxian|Wei Ying, Lan Zhan/Wei Ying
Comments: 7
Kudos: 116





	Lovers' bliss

“Let’s dance,” he whispered, his hot breath fanning against Lan Zhan’s ear. His lips curled into a wide smirk, as he watched that same ear turn a bright red, the only sign that he’d gotten a reaction from him.

It was more than enough, Wei Ying thought. He twirled away from his Lan Zhan, brandishing Suibian with a smile, his black robes fluttering around him, as he took a defensive stance. His eyes never left his lover's, taking in his unwavering molten gaze on him, those pale, strong hands that grasped Bichen from its hilt. 

Their swords met in a ringing clash under the moonlight as they lunged at each other, blades parrying blows automatically. The only sounds that disturbed the dead silence, was the sound of metal striking metal and Wei Ying’s harsh breaths. As he dashed away from Lan Zhan’s reach, he swiped at the sweat dripping from his eyes, and was momentarily distracted by the trail of sweat glistening on his the Second Jade’s pale neck. 

They’d been sparring for over an hour after all. Time to end this, Wei Ying thought. Drawing in a deep breath, lips spread in his usual teasing smirk, Wei Ying sprinted towards Lan Zhan, taking pleasure in the slight widening of his eyes as he approached. He jabbed out his sword in a stabbing motion, but Lan Zhan, ever ready, reacted faster, kicking out and with one sweeping motion, Wei Ying found himself hitting the ground, Bichen pointed at his neck.

He laughed breathlessly as he let go of Suibian. He was tired but still restless. Mo Xuanyu’s core was still weak but Wei Ying had been diligently strengthening his cultivation skills to a more decent level, one that allowed him to wield his sword for more than a few minutes. Lan Zhan and Shizui had both helped of course, practicing with him, meditating with him daily, motivating him to keep improving. Wei Ying whispered a grateful thank you to Huaisang and poor Mo Xuanyu for his second chance at life which had finally given him a chance at love and a family. Sure this situation wasn’t what they’d had in mind when they’d brought him back but Wei Ying was not about to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

Bichen was back in its trusty sheath and Wei Ying grasped his love's hand, which hauled him straight upwards into his open arms. He burrowed his nose into the curve of Lan Zhan’s neck. Even sweaty, Lan Zhan still smelt of musky sandlewood and home and Wei Ying’s heart was soothed.

He sighs gustily and presses closer. It was like he was never close enough. Lan Zhan’s arms enfolded around him, secure in his embrace. 

“I’m doing well, aren’t I, Er-gege?” He asked, pressing his lips lightly against Lan Zhan’s throat, watching as his Adam’s apple rose slightly as Lan Zhan hummed softly in reply. A faint kiss brushed his forehead and Wei Ying fell deeper in love.

He tilted his head to meet his husband’s gaze and melted upon seeing the depth of emotion swimming in those golden eyes he held so dear. He pursed his lips invitingly. He didn’t have to wait long, as Lan Zhan lowered his head to meet his mouth with his own.

His lips were warm against his, his lower lip slightly chapped but that doesn’t stop Wei Ying from nibbling teasingly at it, and licking his way into his love’s mouth the first chance he got. 

Their kisses quickly deepen, their arms tightening around each other and Wei Ying feels hunger coiling in his stomach, an ache to be close to Lan Zhan, to be underneath him and have him away from any prying eyes. Wei Ying moaned loudly, his body curving sinuously in his love’s grip. He wanted all of it, every bit of it he could get, till all he knew was Lan Zhan. 

“Shameless,” Lan Zhan murmured. His soft voice, like velvet sent a thrill throughout Wei Ying’s entire body. Yes, perhaps he was shameless, kissing him out in the open practice grounds of Gusu, but damn it, how could he show restraint when his lover looked like the world’s best three course meal. Hell, he felt his legs open on their own volition every time he so much gazed in his direction. Couple that with his undying, unwavering love for him, a love which was so evidently reciprocated, Wei Wuxian didn’t care about rules when he could be enjoying the Chief Cultivator, the Second Jade of Lan, and lastly but most importantly, his husband in his bed.

“Oh Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says, between kisses. “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan.” He draws back, tugging on his husband’s hand, leading him towards the Jingshi. “I love you, Lan Zhan. Need you, want you, cannot ever be without you.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan uttered his name in a reverent whisper, pressing his husband against the doors of his home. “Love you.” In a flash, he lifted him gently off the ground and strode towards the bedroom. It was past nine, all of Gusu-Lan was quiet, the disciples should be asleep by now but sleep was far from the Second Jade’s mind.

A teasing smirk flashed on Wei Ying’s lips, which was soon followed by a moan, as hot lips descended on his collarbones, and fervent hands tore at his robes, caressing and fondling every stretch of tan skin, Lan Zhan’s hands made contact with. Wei Ying’s hands too were busy, trying to remove the layers upon layers that made up his husband’s robes. 

Their first domestic spat had been on this issue, Wei Ying had tried to convince Lan Zhan not to bother with all four layers of clothing. He’d tried to explain the benefits of unrestricted movement, comfort and also the ease at which he could have his husband if he chose to do so. Needless to say, that spat ended as shortly as it started, with Wei Ying gasping for breath in their bed held in his husband’s firm arms. 

Inky black hair splayed out on white sheets. Lan Zhan held his breath. Wei Ying looked ethereal, a beautiful moaning mess, a dense flush high on his cheeks, his lush lips bitten red. A deep sense of satisfaction thrummed throughout Lan Zhan’s veins. He was the one who got to see him like this, who got to taste his beloved’s ecstacy.

Wei Ying yelped, as Lan Zhan abruptly crowded him, his golden eyes dark with unrestrained lust, his arms lifting him completely off the bed to settle him into the middle of soft sik sheets. Despite his whining, Wei Ying, found that being manhandled by Lan Zhan only fanned his desire for him.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he moaned. “Be gentler, Er-gege!” he admonished teasingly as Lan Zhan pinched his sensitive nipples whilst biting roughly on the inside of his thigh. His husband laves at the smooth skin of his calves, and leaves bruising kisses on his inner thighs, pinning Wei Ying’s straining hips down and avoiding the one place that was begging for his attention.

“Mercy, husband. Don’t tease me!” Wei Ying said sultrily, his hands eagerly cupping his husband hard. “I’m ready for you Er-gege, and by the looks of it, you are too.” He trailed off with a bright laugh that rang throughout the walls of the Jingshi. The laughter soon turned into desperate wails, as Lan Zhan pressed well-oiled fingers deep inside his husband.

Wei Ying squeaked, eyes fixated on how his husband slid in, shallowly pushing into him in gentle increments. It was to be gentle then their love making tonight, he thought. Every movement of those slight hips left him gasping and twitching at how full he feels, how absolutely perfect a familiar pressure is building from deep inside him. And yet Wei Ying relished for more. After all, he realized his husband’s headband was still on and he took it upon himself to tear it off, and with that he tore off his husband’s restraint upon himself. 

The sight of Wei Ying in whimpers, legs parted and body arching just for him, with his Lan headband clasped firmly in his fists is unbearable for even Lan Zhan. All his dreams of old made through as they made good use of their everyday. Even after the first few months of their marriage had flown by, the novelty of their marriage bed had not passed, rather their lust and hunger to be ever closer to each other merely grew stronger. They had sixteen years to catch up on.

Shallowly, Lan Zhan thrusted once more inside him, tightening his grip on Wei Ying’s milky thighs, sliding deeper yet deeper inside. The tightness around him felt like heaven and his mind was all clouded with a mixture of love and intense arousal, which was only heightened by the seemingly unendless moans of pleading and begging and shameless yells for more and more from his depraved husband.

His control snaps deep within him, and he bends low to adjust his husband to his liking. Mo Xuanyu’s body was slighter than his and Lan Zhan reveled in having him squirm underneath him, although at times his traitorous mind did stir up thoughts of whether it would be so easy to have him had Wei Ying kept his old body. But Wei Ying was Wei Ying and Lan Zhan loved the body as much as he savored the soul. 

He angled his next thrust, sharply, baring his teeth and slams deep within. Underneath him,Wei Ying jolted, crying out in a mix of pain and pleasure, trapping his husband’s evermoving hips with his legs.

Silver eyes locked into gold, their lips meet over and over again, as they push viciously at each other and Wei Ying feels full and complete. If he could die of pleasure, this was the death he’d choose.  
He clings to his husband, clawing at his back as Lan Zhan’s thrusts gain momentum, from slow to fast and faster yet still. His own hips press upwards to receive him, his whole body tilting into the ferocious rhythm of Lan Zhan’s hips, his mind open, his body taut, yearning for release as he opens himself up for Lan Zhan to take and take.

He enjoys this feeling of being used and owned like this, and he tells him so, babbling incessantly into his husband’s red ear. "Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Er-gege! You're too good! Forget about your duties, we should do this all the time, every day, okay? AH, Lan Zhan!”

His voice edges into a shrill scream, the sound egging his husband on. "Yes, yes Lan Zhan, yours, yours and you’re mine! My Er-gege!"  
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan growls his name and Wei Ying feels his world whitening as he loses control, spending himself all over his husband’s abdomen. As he comes to, he takes his fill of his husband’s irreverent beauty in the dim light, the swell of Lan Zhan’s chiseled chest, the elegant high curve of his cheek bones and sharp angle of his jaw. The swell of warmth that stirs in his belly on seeing him is a familiar one. 

Both mind and body spent, they curled besides each other, lefs slotting together, arms coiled around each other, their sweaty bodies cooling, chests heaving as they regain their breath. Wei Ying tucks his face into the curve of Lan Zhan's neck, and breathes in the smell of him―sandalwood and sweat and sex and release. Here naked in the Jingshi, their feelings bared to each other, he is at home, at peace, together with Lan Zhan in a way he'd only dared to wish for before.


End file.
